


Pocketful of Sunshine

by GaryTheFish



Series: Hope is a Four Letter Word [44]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Coping Mechanisms, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Loki - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 17:30:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8111119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaryTheFish/pseuds/GaryTheFish
Summary: Including paper flowers, furniture and Protocol Delta; or, a day in the life of one Loki Laufeyson.





	

Loki reclined in his chair, feet on his desk and a tablet in his lap. He generally devoted a couple of hours in the morning to studying, whether it was financial documents or scientific journals to keep abreast on the latest discoveries and developments that might help Tony’s company. Making occasional notes in the margins, either for himself or for Stark, he was absorbed in his work. Next to him, the double monitors of his computer swirled in a soothing pattern, a counterpoint to the clock ticking quietly on the wall. An envelope lay on the edge of the desk, today’s offering safely inside, and he glanced at the time. She wouldn’t be finished for a while yet, and the trains seemed to be more crowded these days, with Yule looming ever closer.

A familiar chime, and Loki tapped his keyboard without taking his eyes off his work.

“Laufeyson.”

“Hey, man.” Parker’s voice was hushed, and Loki turned to the screen in surprise.

“Parker?” He glanced over at the clock. “What time is it there?” Loki looked closer. “And are you in a _closet?_ ”

The young man rubbed his face a little. “No. It’s an empty conference room, and I think it’s around one-thirty? I don’t know. Math is too hard right now.”

Loki sighed. “When was the last time you were home?”

“Couple of days ago. It’s cool.” He fell silent for a second or two, and Loki could have sworn his cheeks colored. Sliding the tablet to the desktop and bringing his feet to the floor with a thump, Loki folded his hands and looked at Parker sternly.

“Out with it,” he said. “What’s going on?”

Parker looked briefly agonized. “I’m stuck,” he finally said. “ _It’s_ stuck.” He pointed to his forehead. “It’s here. It’s right _here_ and it won’t come _out_ and it’s _maddening._ ” The feed jumped a little as Parker shook his laptop and gave an inarticulate, muffled scream.

“Breathe,” Loki soothed. “Breathe and tell me why you called me and not someone else.”

“I don’t _know_ anyone else,” came the slightly panicked reply. “Not well enough for this.”

Loki went cold. “For what?” he asked numbly, fearing he already knew the answer.

The agony returned to Parker’s face. “Protocol Delta. I need to get unstuck. You’ve gotta _help_ me, man. _Please._ ”

“Delta.”

“Delta. D is for dance pa-”

Loki cut him off a little desperately. “You can’t do this yourself?”

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“But-”

“She’s in _class_ ,” Parker wailed. “Don’t you think I already _thought_ of that?”

“Stark.”

“Touring CERN.”

“Rhodes?”

“At Edwards for Air Force stuff.”

“Pepper?”

“It is _one freaking thirty_ _in the morning_. I am _not_ calling the CEO of a major corporation at one thirty in the morning. Why don’t you _love_ me, man? I _know_ you’re good for this; I’ve seen you in action.”

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose, then lifted his eyes to the ceiling. “Fine,” he said at last as he stood and locked the door to his office, closing the blinds for good measure. “Send me your playlist.”

***

 _“No,” says Parker patiently. “It’s one, two, one,_ **_two,_ ** _then arms up and_ **_then_ ** _the bounce and hot damn, hot damn on a biscuit with orange juice I’ve_ **_got_ ** _it. I’ve_ **_got_ ** _it and you are the best thing ever I love you so much and I totally mean that and oh holy SH-” and then the display spins crazily and goes black as Parker presumably sprints from the darkened conference room and back to his lab._

_He hops down from the couch, straightens the cushions and puts his shoes back on. He taps his keyboard, silencing the music and grateful for a fairly sound-proof office. A small noise from the doorway, and he turns rapidly, still a little out of breath, to see her leaning against the wall with a faint grin on her face._

_He smooths his hair with a bit of a sheepish expression._

_“And how long have you been standing there?”_

_“Oh,” she says, coming over to straighten his tie. “I’d say just about long enough.”_

***

Loki spent the afternoon working on Parker’s book. The days until their flight back to Malibu for the holidays were already packed with meetings and parties, with only the occasional breather, and without a workspace in the states, Loki wanted to finish the gift before he ever got on the plane.

She accompanied him to his shop, following him up the narrow steps to his rented loft above a bookshop halfway between their flat and Stark’s London office. He said nothing of it; their orbit had tightened a little after the anniversary of the invasion and what came before and after. It would loosen again soon, he thought, but in the meantime, Loki didn’t mind her tagging along in the least. He had merely lugged a large beanbag chair up the stairs and added a few blankets, and she’d spent more than a few afternoons grading papers while tucked into the quietest corner of his small shop.

She moved directly to her spot, but he beat her to it, letting his bag fall gently to the floor and dropping to the cushion. He beckoned her, and she put her bag next to his with a stern look.

“Last time I checked, there was a rule about both of us on the LoveSac.”

He grinned. “ _Gods_. I will _never_ get over that name,” he told her. “Besides, that was an official furniture christening, as I recall, and the rules don’t apply on special occasions. I’ll behave today. Promise cross my heart.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Until after closing time, at least.”

“You’re insatiable.”

“You’ll have to speak up, little kettle,” he replied kindly as he settled back and folded his hands on his stomach. “I can’t hear you from way down here.” He gestured again, a little more imperiously. “Come on; it won’t take long. I’ve got loads of work ahead of me if I’m to finish the binding this afternoon like I need to.”

She finally shook her head a fraction and sat perpendicular to him, back against the wall and legs across his. He rested one hand on her knee as he searched his bag with the other. “Today’s offering,” he said, carefully pulling the chain of tiny blue buds from its envelope. “ _Myosotis scorpioides_. The forget-me-not, whose meaning goes without saying. It also symbolizes true love. They’re meant to be flat like that; it’s a marker for your books.”

Aeslin smiled as she twirled it gently in her fingers. “Exquisite, as always.” She leaned forward for a kiss, and he pulled back sooner than he wanted to.

“I fear we’re coming to the end of the alphabet,” he said in an attempt to distract himself. “I’m losing faith in your Victorians.”

“Good thing they’re not around anymore,” she laughed. “They might be devastated to hear that. Probably send you flowers declaring war.”

A brief thought. “Wild tansy, with some basil thrown in for good measure.” He leaned back again, fingers absently tracing slow circles on her leg. “They just seem to have a much different idea of what’s actually desirable in a lover. Countless ways to show affection or beauty or grace, but little for when I want to celebrate other things I love about you. Wisdom. Intelligence. Blistering wit. That thing your face does when you’re concentrating. You know what you would get for intellect? A bowl of walnuts. _Wal_ nuts. You hate walnuts.”

“What thing my face does?”

“Hard to explain, but don’t ever stop. It would break my heart.” He squeezed her knee gently. “So I’ve got one more, I think, and then I’m going to have to move onto something else. Gemstones, maybe.”

She smiled and touched his cheek. “You don’t _have_ to give me anything, you know. I’ve got everything I want already.”

“Hmm.”

“It’s true. I’m beginning the career I never knew I wanted as much as I do. I’ve got an amazing home in an incredible place with a person I love more than I ever thought possible. I’ve got a field school starting in five months and counting. I’ve got wonderful friends. Brilliant colleagues. I get myself ravished by a god on a more than regular basis. What else could I need?”

“Ex-god.”

“So you _claim_.”

He snickered. “Flattery will get you everything, sweetling.”

“And what if it’s the truth?”

“Then it will get you more.”

Her brow knit in the second before he briefly touched his lips to hers. “What’s more than everything?”

“No idea,” he admitted. “But I won’t stop until you have it.”

That earned him a laugh, and she shifted closer. “What on earth did I do to deserve you?” she asked, cheek resting on his shirt.

“Horrible things.” He wrapped his arms loosely around her. “Tormented your school masters. Flipped off one too many boxes of kittens. Wore white after Labor Day. The list of sins goes on and on, and it’s no wonder you ended up saddled with me as punishment.”

A snort. “Stop. I don’t even wear white _before_ Labor Day. It washes me out.”

“Well, if spending days on end in art stores has taught me nothing else, it’s that there are infinite shades of white. Perhaps you just haven’t found the right one.”

She trailed the stem of flowers down his chest. “No. I think I found exactly the right one.”

“Are we still talking about the same thing?”

“Maybe?”

Loki smiled, then tilted her chin up for a kiss. She responded, hand and flowers still resting on his shirt, and after a long moment he nipped her lower lip and gently smacked her leg.

“Up,” he said.

Aeslin smirked. “Whatever for?”

He sighed. “Because I’ve got a lot of work to do,” he said, boosting her from his lap with reluctance. “And more importantly, because if you don’t, Rule 32 is going to get tossed out a third-story window.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the song by Natasha Bedingfield.
> 
> (A sort of apology for the angsty goodness that was Monday's offering, even though sorry not sorry For Reasons. :D As my beta reader says, these two are either full-on angst or they're trading heart bubbles over peoples' heads. NO MIDDLE GROUND, these dorks. It's short, I know.)
> 
> Beta read by the lovely Xogs. All mistakes are my own. 
> 
> Feedback appreciated! I like this one. <3 Thanks for reading!


End file.
